Addicted to Westwood
by silentphill
Summary: After five years on the run from the criminal mastermind known as "M", Daniel Graham returns to London. Things get interesting when Daniel meets the mysterious Jim, his potential flat-mate, who seems to know more about Daniel's past than his closest friends. Even more so: his real name. Will this ex-adrenaline junkie find a new addiction? Before/Post-Reichenbach OC/Moriarty, MorMor
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! First chapter of my first fanfiction! Read & Enjoy :)**

Daniel Graham slammed down his fists on the keyboard, giving his desk neighbor a fright. His computer had frozen,_ again_. It was the second time today and his patience started to wear thin. Damn his cheapskate of a boss for not upholding his promise to buy some functional technology. How did he even put up with the man's bollocks?

With a sour expression on his face, Daniel made his way to the staff coffee-room in search for a delicious cup of tea. Maybe that would ease his temper. Daniel poured himself a cup of earl grey, before sitting down at the small couch and asking himself why he was still working here. After one and a half months, Daniel was already fed up with it, but he didn't have much choice—he needed the money in order to pay his motel room. He still hadn't been able to find a flat yet.

Living overseas for five years had been tough, especially since he loved everything about London. It was his home after all. He was finally back, but things had changed. People had moved on and he didn't feel he had a right to impose on their life anymore. They were better off without him.

"Dreadful isn't it?" said a voice on his left.

Daniel flinched in surprise; he hadn't even noticed somebody else was in the room much less that somebody was sitting next to him. Perhaps he was losing his touch. He cleared his head of all the thoughts and focused his gaze on his colleague Matthew who leaned forward and picked up his coffee cup from the table.

"What is?" Daniel asked, trying to look interested while running his fingers through his light brown hair. Matthew nodded towards the open door and Daniel assumed he meant the two people standing at the end of the hall. It was Mr. Hamilton, his cranky old cheapskate of a boss, and one of the newly hired assistants, a young woman with curly blonde hair. She seemed to be somewhere in her twenties and she was very pretty. Mr. Hamilton leaned in close and she giggled and fluttered her eyelashes at him in return. Obviously, they were flirting.

"Can you believe it? An old man scores more than us combined. It's ridiculous," Matthew said with a look of disbelief on his face.

Daniel nodded in agreement, but actually, he didn't find it very ridiculous. The man had money—lots of it, a big ass company and power. He could offer stability, comfort and could give his women whatever they desired. It wasn't ridiculous, but it sure was unfair. Mostly he found it sad these women would rather be with some rich douchebag than with someone who cared for more than their appearance.

"God, why is life so unfair?" Matthew complained and took a sip of coffee. "So, how's it going with you my friend? Any love interests?"

Daniel had to bite back a laugh. Love interests? Him? There was no way. He had trust issues, he was paranoid and everyone he loved ended up leaving him or worse. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out a response that didn't involve laughing into his face, and possibly offend him.

"Um, no. I have other things on my mind. Don't really have time for women. You?" ended up being his response and Matthew nodded with understanding before he began to tell about his adventures from last night and some woman he'd met in a bar. Daniel tried hard to remain interested during the conversation but his mind was elsewhere. Ever since he had gotten back to London, his past had haunted him. Being a journalist wasn't his life call. Far from it. He wasn't meant to sit in front of a desk writing articles.

Daniel let out a sigh. He was itching to go back to the old days. The danger, the rush, adrenaline constantly pumping through his veins. The thrill of the hunt and the joy of finally catching his prey. Being on top of the food-chain with unlimited knowledge in his hands. He forced himself to remember the reason he quit. People had gotten hurt because of him, people he cared about. He couldn't let that happen again.

"…anyway this girl, she just took off without an explanation. I'm not sure what happened." Matthew finished his story and looked at Daniel for an opinion.

"You got screwed over… Did you check your wallet?" Daniel replied. He didn't want to hurt his friend but even after listening with only one ear, this one was obvious.

"Wallet? But why… What do you mean screwed over?" Matthew's face was tense, he started to get irritated at Daniel's assumptions. Daniel tilted his head and looked at Matthew with impatience. Matthew let out a noisy breath before doing as Daniel suggested. He opened his wallet and looked through it, his face changing from pale white to a deep red, before exclaiming: "Son of a bitch! The little minx stole my 20 pounds… I have to call the police!"

"I don't think they can help you, they have other priorities. But you learned something no doubt," Daniel said and put a hand on Matthew's shoulder. Matthew sank down in the couch, his face red with embarrassment. Daniel felt a bit bad for him. However, Matthew wasn't the kind of person to dwell on bad things for long.

An hour later, he was already over it.

The remainder of the day passed without any further computer issues and Matthew was coping with what had happened. When he told the rest of the staff of last night's events, he got many offers from female colleagues, mostly out of pity. Matthew could get a date even without their pity; he was a decent, good-looking guy but he welcomed the offers anyway. Daniel carried on with writing his article on a recent murder case, staying as far away from his co-workers as possible.

Right now, he wasn't in need of human communion. What he needed was to finish his work and occupy his mind with something else—anything. So, hours passed until the hour was late and he realized he was alone.

The others had gone home. Daniel glanced at the clock with a sigh. _Eight_. He was supposed to have left an hour ago. He heard the sound of someone out in the corridor, probably the janitor Phillips. This was the first time Daniel had stayed behind until everyone else had left.

Daniel rather enjoyed the silence and decided to take the opportunity to relax. He went over to the large windows, taking in the view. The buildings outside, a mix of old and new, made him feel nostalgic. The nostalgia grew in his chest, reminding him off the old days again, and he resisted the sudden urge to crush the window and jump. He longed to feel content with his life, to wake up and not feel the need of _anything_. For once Daniel wanted to wake up and not feel empty.

Daniel went back to pick up his things so he could head home to the seedy motel. He wasn't overly excited. Frankly, it had gotten to the point where he would consider moving in with someone just to sleep in a bed that hadn't been defiled by years of inhabitants.

Daniel grabbed his jacket and heaved the bag over his shoulder when the screen on his computer lit up. Daniel stopped and watched with confusion as his screen filled up with pictures. Dozens of them.

"What the hell?" He whispered while he leaned closer, his mouth hanging wide open in shock.

They were crime scene photographs, the victims completely brutalized. A man and a woman, middle-aged, possibly married. The woman was lying on the floor, her arm pointing towards what seemed to be the door. Her head was smashed in and her body covered in slashes and bruises. The man lied on the bed, a gun in his right hand, a hole through his head and the same weird bruises on his body. Blood spattered over the walls in an almost theatrical way. Daniel couldn't believe his eyes. This was _his _murder.

Five years ago, he'd been a provider of information and evidence. With a camera in one hand and a gun in the other, he'd been invincible; at least that's what he had thought. The knowledge in his head had been enough to piss off more than half of the underworlds greatest criminals. He was either their key to release or their one-way ticket to life in prison. A risk many didn't wish to take. With the information, and compromising photographs, that he had he could've blackmailed the queen herself.

Daniel didn't consider himself on the side of criminals, even if he had helped some. Authorities, such as the government, even hired him once in a while.

Information, hunting people down and catching them, that was his life. Or it used to be. His life had been thrilling, exciting. It was his way of surviving and sustaining his need for adventure and danger. He was an adrenaline junkie after all. Without a daily dose, he would have trouble sleeping. He would never feel _content_.

Many had tried to persuade Daniel into partnership, his skills proved to be a useful asset in the world of crime. Daniel wasn't interested in that. He remembered declining an offer from the very core of criminal organization, a decision whoever pulled the strings didn't take well. He never caught the guy's name. Apparently, everyone was too afraid to speak it. After all this time he'd only been able to learn that this person was sometimes referred to as M.

This man was dangerous enough to scare the biggest fish Daniel had caught. That was one of the reasons he had fled the country for five years.

Daniel looked at the pictures, a mix of guilt and shame on his face. If it weren't for him, those people wouldn't have been brutally tortured and murdered. His adoptive parents would still be alive. If he hadn't been such a dumbass they would be alive and well. He did this to them.

This whole situation in front of him raised an interesting question though: who sent these pictures and why? Who was M?

There were few people aware of Daniel's work, having worked like a shadow. Few had seen him personally and nobody knew his real name. He had been known only as Winston, a name with no connections to himself or his adoptive parents.

He guessed the King of crime had his own set of sources at his disposal. A snitch. Daniel couldn't help wonder why now. After five years, why did they send these pictures now? It was a message to him personally, but if they already knew where he was and who he was, why hadn't they killed him already?

Unless there was something else... something_ worse_ in store for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter! Read and leave a review if you like and tell me what you think so far. Enjoy!**

The next morning Daniel woke up feeling restless. He had dreamt something strange and his memory tried to put things together, but somehow he couldn't remember. Yesterday had been exhausting, and today he pushed everything away into some dark corner of his mind. Daniel wasn't fit for dealing with the photo mystery right now. He was out of shape, deprived of sleep and on top of it all; he was supposed to meet his potential flat-mate, a guy just slightly older than himself, in less than an hour.

After living in the seedy motel room for two months Daniel was more than willing to share his personal space with somebody else, trust issues or not. So, he'd asked around and it turned out that one of his colleagues knew of someone seeking a flat mate. Thank god, he really couldn't bear to stay in that room any longer. It was filthy and the walls separating the rooms were thin.

Daniel was supposed to meet the guy outside a café called The Farm Collective at Cowcross street. As Daniel arrived, only five minutes late, he spotted a man sitting outside, with a cup of tea in his left hand. The other he used to browse through a newspaper, seemingly interested in a particular article featuring a detective—from what he could tell by the bold headlines. The man wore a union jack cap with the word London broidered on it in red letters. Daniel looked around, noticing there were no other people sitting outside.

_It must be him then_, he concluded.

"Hello," Daniel said as he walked up to the man's table.

The man looked up at him with nut-brown eyes that twinkled with interest. Their glances met in mutual curiosity as Daniel answered the man's gaze with his almond shaped eyes. They were symmetrically placed on each side of his nose like two chartreuse colored jewels. In the sunlight, they appeared almost bright yellow.

The man folded the newspaper and put it down before making a gesture with his arm demanding Daniel to sit down on the opposite side of the table. Daniel complied and sat down. The man was used to tell people what to do, no question about that.

"I take it you're my potential flat mate then?" Daniel asked.

"Ah, yes that would be me," The man said and stretched his arm across the table as an invitation to shake his hand. Daniel grasped it and the introduction proceeded.

"I'm Jim," the man said and slid out of Daniel's grasp and leaned back into the chair. He removed the cap from his head and revealed lustrous hair that matched those nearly black eyes.

"I'm Daniel," Daniel replied with a smile and tried to make it as authentic as he could. He wasn't certain why, but his pulse had risen all of a sudden, and yet he still felt calm.

"My my, quite the eccedentesiast are we?" Jim said.

"Excuse me?" Daniel wasn't sure what to make of the accusation, or Jim's intention. Daniel had heard this particular word before. Maybe it was simply an observation or a way to tease him, but it didn't matter. It was true that he faked some of his smiles, even if he didn't feel like smiling, mostly not to seem rude, but he did it often enough to be considered good at it. This man in front of him had seen through it in a second, unlike everyone else. He was fascinating, to say the least.

"Nevermind, you just seem tense. So, are you a light sleeper? I'm up late with work and I listen to classical music on a daily basis, some regular scissor sisters as well. Does it bother you?"

Daniel shifted his weight on the uncomfortable wooden chair. He had kept his distance from people but at this point, he welcomed the company. Perhaps he would actually sleep better if he wasn't so alone. The thought hadn't occurred until now.

"Not really... I've lived in a motel with noisy neighbors and if I can sleep listening to them all night on an old solid mattress I can probably handle it," Daniel said.

"Brilliant. Are you currently employed?" Jim asked, a smile curving on his lips. "Easier to split the rent that way," he added.

"Yes. I work at…" He glanced at the newspaper on the table and recognized the bold, somewhat boring logotype. As stiff as his boss. _No way_, he thought. "There, actually," Daniel said and nodded in direction of the newspaper. Jim's eyebrows shot up in surprise, although something in his eyes suggested a different emotion. Daniel decided it must be his imagination.

"Really? Strange coincidence. So you're a journalist…that's got to be rough with all the long hours," Jim said, trying to keep up a friendly conversation. He seemed nice enough.

"Occasionally, yes. I've only been here for two months so I haven't experienced any hardships yet. But I like it."

Jim shot him a gaze that seemed to say: "liar", before he lifted the cup to his lips and took another sip of his tea. It smelled like jasmine and mint. If Jim had noticed Daniel's white lie, he had courtesy enough to pretend he didn't.

As Jim put down the cup again, Daniel noticed the tea had a strange yellowish color, almost white and very transparent, which secluded the possibility of milk as the cause for its tint. He'd never seen tea like that before, perhaps it was imported.

"I can see why such a work would interest you. You do seem to have a good eye for details," Jim said, running his fingertip along the edge of the cup, and Daniel nodded in response and felt like looking away for a moment. Jim had probably noticed his interest in his choice of tea. He felt a tad embarrassed for being so obvious about it.

Daniel cleared his throat before continuing. "And you… Jim, what do you do for a living?"

"I do some consulting and a bit of business," Jim said and shrugged it off like it was no big deal. At least he wasn't living in a seedy motel.

"Oh, that sound's exciting! Business…huh" Daniel shot a quick glance towards the cap on the table. Jim seemed to catch on his train of thought rather quickly.

"I don't look it, I know. However, I don't usually dress like this." He gestured to his white t-shirt and jeans. "But it isn't the right weather for Westwood I'm afraid. You should see me in a suit, love."

Daniel felt more and more curious about Jim for every second he spent in his company. Jim wasn't like other people, Daniel could sense it. Perhaps it was his confidence in himself or the way he seemed to read Daniel like an open book. He just couldn't put his finger on it, but one thing he knew for certain: this man wasn't boring.

Before Daniel had chance to say more, or try to analyze further, Jim rose from his chair. He put on his cap and beamed a smile at Daniel. There was something in those eyes of his, a massive intellect, a past. Jim seemed like a nice guy, but he was keeping secrets. Daniel didn't mind that, having a few of them himself. That was only human.

"You seem like the unpredictable kind," Daniel stated. Jim gave him an amused look. He almost seemed flattered.

"Is that good or bad? " Jim asked. Daniel bit his lip, as a smile forced itself onto his lips. "That remains to be seen I suppose."

Jim let out a soft chuckle before continuing. "So, are you ready to take a look at the flat today? It's not far but we can do this tomorrow if you're busy," Jim said calmly, with a gaze that suggested he wouldn't take no for an answer. Daniel suppressed a chuckle and Jim observed him in silence, his hands now in his pockets. Jim was a businessman alright, an impatient one, probably always got his will through, and Daniel had no intention on keeping him waiting, he was weary of that dreadful motel and the lack of proper meals.

Actually, this could turn out to be a fun experience. Perhaps he would even make a friend.

"So, tomorrow then?" Jim asked impatiently when Daniel hesitated to give him an answer, disappointment flashing through his eyes. Daniel shook his head, tossing the short waves of hair back and forth.

"Good heavens no. Today is _perfect_. The faster I'm out of that motel the better. I don't think I could stand another night in there," Daniel said, still smiling.

He felt a bit surprised over Jim's somewhat childish impatience, since he seemed so intelligent and calm otherwise, but he wasn't worried. He knew there was more to Jim, a side he had yet to see. Now he was really curious.

He could see the impatient expression on Jim's face be replaced with a grin before Jim turned around. Then off they went, two strangers, both burdened with secrets and pasts, heading to look at a flat together.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim pushed the door to the flat open and invited Daniel inside with a theatrical gesture.

"Welcome to my humble estate!" He said in a dramatic voice before entering. Daniel followed him inside, not really sure what he was expecting.

By the looks of it, Jim seemed to enjoy antique-looking furniture. There was a chandelier above the dinner table and dark red curtains framing the large window. So far, Daniel was more than impressed. He couldn't imagine how Jim could possibly afford all this.

Jim glanced over his shoulder before opening the double doors into the living room. There was a hint of a smirk on his lips when he turned around and welcomed Daniel inside, like he already knew Daniel would love it.

"You have seen nothing yet," He said.

Daniel couldn't help the grin on his face, the excitement and total awe he felt as he walked into the living room. It had Brown Oak ceiling beams, 20' long built in wall of cabinets and a television panel. There were two sofas in the room, both in the same rococo style and wine red shade. It was marvelous.

After a few moments of admiring Jim's sense of taste in furniture, they headed to the library. There actually was room for a library in the flat! Daniel could imagine sitting in there, the perfect spot for his work. A silent room, where he could do research and relax in the evenings.

The library had the same style as the living room, with brown oak panels. Bookcases covered the left wall and two armchairs were placed in front of the fireplace. Both looked generations old, almost as old as the painting hanging above the fireplace.

"Is that a Rembrandt?" Daniel asked. It couldn't possibly be, but it sure looked like it.

"There is more to you than meets the eye, isn't there? Are you interested in art?" Jim asked.

"Not particularly no. I do recognize this painting though..."

Jim chuckled and they continued their little tour. Daniel started to wonder if Jim had robbed a museum at this point. He wasn't even sure he was in a flat anymore, because everything reminded him of a mansion. He spent a few minutes looking around, fascinated by every little thing inside, from the lamps to the rug on the floor. Daniel could see Jim smiling in the corner of his eye, probably amused by his behavior.

The biggest surprise was the kitchen. It was modern and clinical, a mix of stainless steel and wood, with shiny clinker floor. Jim explained the old kitchen had been impractical to his style of living, he preferred his kitchen as modern and easy-to-use as possible. The thought of Jim actually using a kitchen seemed unlikely for some reason, but Daniel kept that thought to himself.

"Have I impressed you yet?" Jim asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

"With a place like this, it's hard not to," Daniel replied, sounding somewhat out of breath.

This place was amazing. There was modern and traditional furniture blended together in a harmony of contrasts. Daniel would feel weird about it in the beginning, for sure, considering he'd not been sleeping in an actual house for years. When he was overseas, he'd moved between different hotels and cheap apartments, which wasn't much better than a seedy motel. This was a dream.

"Well, if this impresses you... You should see the bedroom," Jim added with a playful wink.

Daniel let out a soft laugh, feeling how his guard dropped. He didn't feel strange about Jim joking around, as he was sure that was all there was to it. Jim had observed and commented many women on the way back to the flat, in ways that suggested he wasn't swinging the other way, at least not completely. Daniel didn't care, whatever way, it didn't matter. Jim was a bit strange for sure, but then, who was he to judge?

There were two bedrooms in the flat, both astounding. Jim's room had more of the antique mansion style with a king-sized bed, red cushions and a large mirror, while Daniel's wasn't quite as show-off with a normal size bed, a bureau for clothes and a small desk. It was still a mansion for him, compared to his current residence.

"Wow, this seems ancient..." Daniel mused as he inspected a Ming vase. "Where did you get it?"

"A souvenir," Jim replied. "Some of my employees travel all over the world." Daniel waited for a couple of seconds to see if he'd elaborate, but he didn't.

Daniel continued to explore his room. There were many items that could easily be a hundred years old. Why Jim dared to keep them in the flat was a mystery. They seemed valuable. Jim however, didn't show any signs of worry.

Apparently, there was a small cellar downstairs too, but Jim considered it unimportant. When Daniel had asked what was down there, Jim had only dismissed the question.

"I like the variety," Daniel said when their little tour around the flat was over.

"I'm very changeable," Jim explained and sat down in the sofa by the fireplace. Daniel joined him on the sofa and leaned back, hands on his stomach and legs spread in a relaxed way. He liked the couch, the room, the antiquities and pretty much everything. It was comfortable, luxurious and spacious enough for both of them.

"So, if I dare ask...how much is it a month?" Daniel asked. There was a slight hesitation in his voice. He was afraid to ask, especially now that he seemed to have fallen in love with the place.

"It's about...1590 pounds," Jim estimated, without even reacting to the outrageous number coming from his lips.

Daniel could feel the blood drain from his face.

"A 1590 pounds? A month?! Are you kidding me, who the hell can afford something like that? I can't even afford a rundown hotel!" He burst out, before taking a deep breath and feeling embarrassed over the sudden outbreak. "I'm sorry…" He added with his gaze on the floor. Jim observed him calmly, didn't even flinch at his shouting.

"90 for you," Jim said. "I'm willing to bargain, but it's a onetime offer. Normally, I wouldn't go this low...it's bad for business, but I'm_ eager_for a variety of company. You seem interesting enough."

Daniel's eyes widened for a moment, shocked by the generous offer.

"90? Really? But, you can't pay the rest of the money by yourself...that's just—"

Jim held up a hand to silence him and he complied instantly.

"Don't underestimate me," He said. His voice sounded deeper now, it was low and impatient. Something flickered in his eyes before it disappeared again, all in a few seconds.

"You can pay me back later if you really want to," He continued, voice back to normal, while shrugging off the sudden change in temperament. Daniel wasn't sure how to respond, he felt grateful but a bit overwhelmed.

Jim seemed like a nice, successful guy, handsome too. He could easily get a flat-mate or a girlfriend to live with him if he wanted to. Yet, he was eager for company? What did he mean by that? Perhaps others had been apalled by the price, or perhaps it was Jim that had high standards? Daniel felt slightly flattered by the thought.

"I'll take it," He replied after deciding it was a good offer. He'd pay Jim back one way or the other... eventually. Although, he'd probably have to rob the bank to afford it.

Jim's features softened into a satisfied smile, eyes filled with excitement like he was a little child with a new toy.

"Splendid!" His voice was high-pitched and clearly overjoyed which was a big contrast to the low impatient tone he'd used only a little while ago. Jim reached out his hand and Daniel grabbed it, then they shook hands as if striking a business deal. Daniel was now officially a flat-mate. Matthew would be proud of him for taking another step towards human contact.

Daniel observed as Jim started playing with a pen, twirling it between his thump and index finger. At times he seemed so old for his age, like a man with much wisdom and knowledge. Other times, he seemed childish and impulsive. _Unpredictable_, Daniel noted. That was the most accurate word to describe him.

Daniel rose from the sofa and said:"Well then, if we're done here I should-", but then the cheerful melody of "Stayin' alive" interrupted him. Jim rolled his eyes before he picked up his phone and gave it a quick glare.

"Is it okay if I take this? Work," Jim said and held up his phone. Daniel nodded and Jim walked out of the room with slumped shoulders, suggesting it wasn't a call he was happy to recieve.

_The Bee gees. An interesting choice for a ringtone_, Daniel thought. To be honest, everything about Jim was quite interesting.

After about ten minutes and a few startling shouts Jim re-entered the room with an agitated expression on his face.

"Sorry. Seems I have to leave for now. Can't trust anyone to do their work properly these days," He said with lowered brows and put the phone back in his pocket.

"I see. I guess I'll just head back to the motel and finish some work myself. Should we discuss the rest tomorrow?" Daniel asked and rose from the sofa. He wasn't longing to go back but felt it would be rude to impose and just move in right away. They had just agreed on living together, it would probably be best to continue this another day.

"You don't need to do that. Your room expires tomorrow morning, you have no money to pay for another day and you have no other place to go. Besides, I've already sent someone to pick up your things. They'll be here in less than an hour," Jim said and glanced at his watch.

"How did you even know…?" Daniel mumbled, but didn't bother to finish the sentence. He felt like an open book in Jim's presence. Daniel wondered if he really was so obvious, because Jim must have known he'd move in.

"I know an interested client when I see one. A businessman, remember?" Jim pointed at himself. Daniel was sure that wasn't the full story.

"Just who are you really?" Daniel asked, fascinated and confused at the same time.

Jim laughed in response, although he didn't answer, and went into his bedroom to pick up a change of clothes. Few moments later he headed towards the door with a bag in his hand.

"Just make yourself at home. I'll be back in a while," He said through the door and left.

Daniel sighed and picked up today's newspaper from the coffee-table. He returned to relaxing in the sofa while browsing through different articles, there was everything from children's birthdays and elderly care to heavy crimes.

His gaze stuck on a particular article and the headline read: "amateur detective solves murder of TV-personality."

Daniel had never heard of a Sherlock Holmes until now, probably because he'd been out of the country for a few years. Apparently he'd missed something important. This Sherlock Holmes assisted the police occassionally and offered help to ordinary people with problems, if they interested him. Daniel put down the newspaper. Sherlock Holmes, a name he would definitely remember.

Daniel closed his eyes, remembering how he used to assist people with similar matters, though his _help _was of a different nature. He cursed under his breath for letting himself remember. Everyday, he thought about that life more often. The itch, the excitement. How much he missed it.

He needed something unpredictable, something to stimilate him and keep his mind occupied. Somehow, Daniel had the feeling Jim might be able to help him with that.


End file.
